


Time For Some Thrilling Heroics

by NomadicSecret



Series: Sanguine [1]
Category: Firefly, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NomadicSecret/pseuds/NomadicSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Phil has a thing for lost causes, Clint has a thing for Phil, Natasha is eight (but still terrifying), Pepper is desperate, and Tony is off-screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time For Some Thrilling Heroics

**Author's Note:**

> In this, a Fury-led SHIELD and Worlds' Security Council-controlled Alliance are still at war. I have some other ideas for this 'verse, but it's likelier to become a series of connected one-shots than a continuous story. I have no idea when that might happen, but I hope you enjoy it.

“Jesus Christ!” Clint’s voice crackled slightly over comms.

“Barton?” Phil snapped. “Talk to me!”

“Coulson, she’s … she’s just a kid.” Phil closed his eyes, Fury’s cryptic talk about what made their duo perfect making sense now. _He’ll take whatever shot you tell him to take … and I know I can trust you to do what’s right, even when it’s hard._ “I mean it, Coulson. Like, eight, maybe? Fuck. Sir-” _Please don’t ask me to shoot._ Phil heard the plea that his asset bit back. Because Fury was right. He heard a deep, shaky breath. “I could run, sir. Just – just don’t say anything, and I’ll take her and-”

“No,” Phil said, before he’d thought about it. He breathed in and out. “No, Agent, we do this together.” There was a long pause.

“Yes, sir,” came the hard, bland voice.

“Cover me. I’m going in.”

“Thank you, sir.” His relief was obvious. Fuck Fury. Fury was only half right.

“Clint-” Phil hesitated, unsure what he wanted to say. _Did you really think I’d make you shoot an eight-year-old? I didn’t sign up for this either? Just in case she kills me, know that I love you?_ “You don’t have to do this.”

“We do this together, sir,” Clint said firmly. “And hopefully SHIELD and the Alliance are too busy fighting each other to track us down.”

“Fire a warning shot,” Phil ordered.

 

_Three months later_

“You paid money for this?” Natasha asked disdainfully. “On purpose?”

“Your Uncle Phil has a thing about lost causes,” Clint supplied. “Obviously.” He ruffled the eight-year-old assassin’s red curls. She scowled fiercely up at him.

“Lost causes are the only ones worth fighting for,” Phil said. “But-” he broke off, looking at Clint. With the paranoia of well-trained spies, they’d had some funds socked away, but not unlimited ones.

“I always liked Fireflies,” the younger man said, smiling at him reassuringly.

“Because a cargo ship is perfect for assassins,” Natasha sneered.

“We’re not assassins,” Phil said.

“You’re not an assassin,” Clint said simultaneously.

“This is going to go _great_ ,” Natasha muttered.

It was the sort of border planet with the kind of chaotic market where a child running around alone wasn’t out of place, so Clint and Phil let Natasha do the shopping. She spent remarkably little, although they were never clear on whether she resorted to outright theft or a cold hard grift with her wide green eyes and artfully tousled hair. Clint knew enough about ships to pilot a working one and ensure that they weren’t cheated by the mechanics Phil hired (scouted by Natasha, naturally), and they were up and running sooner than Phil would have thought. It obviously wasn’t sooner than Natasha thought, because she arrived an hour after the mechanic gave them the all clear with a taller, auburn-haired woman by the hand.

“Are you sure this is it?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” Natasha said in a falsely sweet, childish tone. It was odd to hear. “Home sweet rust bucket.”

The woman laughed. “Fireflies are always more than they appear. I’d sure like to make sure your parents are around before I leave, though.”

Phil sensed Clint behind him and turned. They were just out of sight on the second level. At Clint’s nod, he walked onto the catwalk.

“Natasha, there you are!” he said. “Who’s your friend?”

“She got lost,” the woman explained. Behind him, Phil heard Clint snort. Natasha dropped her hand and the childish act and walked over to a supply crate. She easily swung herself up onto it and sat with her legs hanging off, projecting boredom and nonchalance. “I’m Pepper Potts.”

“She’s a lost cause,” Natasha explained to her two guardians. Peppern looked confused and a little frightened. Phil put on his blandest and most reassuring face, but Clint stepped forward with his ‘aw-shucks-ma’am’ routine.

“I told her Phil here has a thing about lost causes,” he explained. “Or strays, at least. Demonstrably.” He shot her a lopsided grin, indicating himself and Natasha. “I’m the pilot on this boat. Phil here’s the captain. If you need any kind of assistance, ma’am, he’s the one to ask.”

“Oh,” she said, fear slipping away. “Well-”

“We were just about to eat lunch,” Clint offered. Natasha heckled him quietly as he made lunch and Phil and Pepper talked. Her boss had been kidnapped, an arrangement made by his business partner and family friend, and evidently sanctioned by the government, because she claimed that she knew where he was and that the Alliance wasn’t making a move. She’d been trying to find someone to perform a rescue, but nobody else would.

“What do you think?” Phil asked Clint as the younger man set down the last of the food and took a seat himself.

“I think it sounds like the perfect job for us to kick off with,” he replied. “But you’re the boss, boss.”

“He might not even be alive,” Natasha pointed out. “I mean, you haven’t said anything that would indicate otherwise.”

“Well – no, I suppose you’re right. I just – he is. I _know_ he is,” Pepper said stubbornly.

“We’ll go after him,” Phil decided.

Natasha huffed out a loud sigh.

“And if he’s not,” Phil allowed, his voice turning dark. “We’ll avenge him.”

Natasha looked up from her plate, a wicked smile spreading across her face. “Now we’re talking!” she said happily.

“Eat your peas,” Phil ordered. “And drink your milk, or you’re not going.” Natasha glared at him.

“Phil!” Clint hissed. “She can’t go!”

“You’ll be piloting, dumbass. You want Phil going in alone?”

Pepper looked slightly alarmed by the conversation. “I – I can pilot,” she said. “I grew up on ships. My father was a pilot. I can fly anything.”

“There you go,” Clint told Natasha.

“You’re a sniper!” she said with exasperation. “It would be better with all three of us!”

“It almost sounds like you care,” Clint teased, ruffling her hair. She death-glared him.

“If you two idiots get yourselves killed, I’ll inherit this piece of crap,” she said. “I don’t want that hassle.”

“Drink your milk,” Phil repeated.

“We didn’t train her,” Clint assured Pepper.

“Good?” she said.

“Natasha, after lunch let’s discuss what we do or do not say in front of strangers, hmm?” Phil said mildly.

“You’re about to take a suicide mission,” Natasha said. “And anyway, she probably deserves to know that I’m an Alliance assassin.”

" _Former_ Alliance assassin," Clint corrected.

Pepper choked on her food. “How old are you?” she asked finally.

“I’m not sure exactly,” Natasha said. “But about the age I appear. Clint decided that I’m eight and my birthday is the day that we met, because he’s a giant sap like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil said. “But now you might as well know … Clint and I were SHIELD agents sent to kill her, and we’re not exactly on anyone’s Christmas card list since we chose not to.”

Pepper looked from one to the other slowly. Finally, she straightened. “What supplies do you need before we leave?”

“I can put a list together and if you and Natasha will go get them, Clint and I can have this thing ready to leave by the time you get back, I think,” Phil offered.

“Let’s do that,” Pepper said briskly.

“She’s not a thing, Phil,” Clint chided when the females had gone. “She needs a name.”

“I don’t hear you throwing out ideas,” he retorted.

“I’m not the boss, sir. Captain’s prerogative.”

“Clint,” Phil said, ceasing to work so they could speak seriously. “We’re partners. Equals. There’s just as much of your money in this – her – as there is mine.”

“Yeah, alright,” Clint replied with a one-shouldered shrug. “But you’re always going to be the boss, Phil. You know me – that doesn’t mean I’ll do everything you want – but when you give an order, I’ll follow it. I trust you to look out for us.”

Phil’s heart and throat ached at that admission. “All right,” he said softly. “I’ll try to live up to that.” That drew a lopsided smile that momentarily stopped Phil’s aching heart.

“You always have,” the archer said softly. Phil took a step closer, but Clint ducked his head, breaking eye contact and the moment, and Phil stepped back again.

“How about _Lola_?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“ _Lola_ it is, sir.”


End file.
